Keeping Me
by Lady Gemini-J
Summary: Summery; Thoughts Andy had as she left for UC, and how they changed her decision. Rated M for a reason. 1shot!


**Summery; Thoughts Andy had as she left for UC, and how they changed her decision. Rated M for a reason. 1shot!**

**Kind of newish to this, so let me know what you think by leaving a review when you've read it. **

_**Keeping Me**_

The drive out of town was made in silence, the street lights flying past as they drove further and further away from their lives.

Away from their heartache.

Well, she knew she was anyway.

The vivid images left to trample through her mind made her eyes well up at the memories that were still so fresh they burned her heart into nothing but smoldering embers of what they were once before.

Before they were merry, happy, love-filled memories and feelings, now they were dark and black, a reminder of why not to drop your guard.

The thoughts brought back a flood of memories that caused a wave of emotion to spill through her as the images changed from his hands protectively covering hers while she held on to the grenade, his words freeing themselves with honesty and hope, to memories of Luke giving her the option to do this with the choice of either doing it right now, or not doing it at all.

She chose the former, not because she wanted to run, but rather because she wanted to give him the chance to work through his issues, make up his mind, and then prove to her what he said he would do, by showing her, if he still felt that way when she came home.

If not, by then it wouldn't be so hard on her if she had to accept that they were really over.

Forever.

As the headlights splashed their glow over the tarmac, catching the occasional road signs as they drove, her mind wafted back to happy memories, memories from the beginning.

The beginning of them.

His hand tangled in her hair, his other hand running its fingertips over her skin.

The shivers she felt everytime he did that never became anything less than a fiery blaze in his hands wake.

His lips would brush over hers softly, his skin setting fire to hers as they would leave her lips and caress the skin of her face before coming to find the spot on her neck that only ever he seemed to find.

His hands would roam across her arms, the soft skin of his fingertips blazing a trail of wanting in their wake, as soon as they moved her flesh wanted more. She always wanted more.

His pace would be slow, as though he was devouring her, worshiping her, tasting her and exploring her for the first time, every single time.

That's just how he was.

Giving.

He would move his lips back to her face, kiss her closed eyelids, brush his nose over hers and let his breath breathe out over her resulting in her being swept away on it.

He would wait for her to make the next move, holding back until she would fuse their lips together and demand entrance to his mouth by running her tongue over his bottom lip, before gently nibbling on it.

His hands would wind around her hips and pull her closer, flush against him so that she would feel what she was doing to him. From there his hands would snake up her arms, torturously slow until they found her hair and her cheek, where they would tangle and caress to his hearts content before they suddenly reversed all the way down back to her waist to find that telltale skin peeking out between her shirt and pants.

There his hands would hover, his thumb drawing wicked patterns over her bare skin until she would let out a moan into his mouth.

Maybe it was a moan, maybe it was a sigh, she'd never be able to tell you, because everything was on fire and craving more.

His hands would move down slowly, to rest subtly on her ass, where they would suddenly lift her up, his pecks flexing under her own hands.

The muscles of his chest would ripple against her breasts, their bodies now closer than before.

His feet would find their stride, walking in the direction of the bedroom, because that's where he wanted her. He seemed possessed with that rule, just about the only rule she knew he had, always the bed. Maybe it was because there was more room, or maybe it was his fetish, she didn't really care.

Her hands would find his face and run through his hair, while her lips lavished sweet kisses over his lips and face.

Her legs would wrap themselves around his body, not because she was scared of falling, but because she wanted him closer, he was still too far away.

As he walked them to the bedroom, her breath would hitch in anticipation.

He would gently set her down on top of the covers before hovering over her, his lips grazing over any skin they could find while his hands ran up to find the hem of her shirt.

Within seconds it would be gone, his hands still lingering on her skin as they moved their way up and down.

Socks and shoes were next, followed by her pants, only then would he allow her hands to find his clothes and let them leave his body item for item.

His hands and lips never strayed far, they always stayed in contact with her, she would become hasty for more, but he would keep his slow pace and slow her down.

Soon her bra and panties were gone, his lips leaving her face to trail down to her breasts, then on to her stomach and finally his teeth would nibble the tender inside flesh of her thighs before he would kiss her body all the way back up.

Her hands would stay locked in his hair, his locks keeping her grounded.

Then he would pull away, and remove the rest of his clothes before returning to assault her with his tongue and lips, his hands making her beg for more.

When his self control wore thin, he would position himself at her entrance and wait for her to open her eyes and give him permission.

He did that same thing every single time, and he would wait as long as it took for her to give him permission.

When he slid into her, it was always slow and soft, his movements being dragged out to make sure he didn't hurt her.

It drove her nuts when he did that, but he was adamant with his actions.

His lips would continue to nibble and peck hers while he slid a little deeper with each thrust, her moans and pants fueling his desire to please her.

Her hands would run from his hair down to his shoulders before feeling the muscles in his back ripple under her fingertips. As his thrusts became deeper and deeper, her hands would press against his back, her nails suddenly digging into his flesh as she clung to him, moving to meet his thrusts.

He would keep a slow pace, until he would sit up, on his knees, and lift her legs so that he would be fully sheathed inside her, one of his hands trailing down to meet the flesh that joined them, where it would slowly punish her by gently bringing her closer to the edge.

He would wrap his arms around her and pull her up, so that she could straddle him and move at her own pace. His deep breaths would fill her ear, wash over the skin of her neck and shoulder before he would find her lips and steal her breath away by kissing her deeply, passionately, lovingly.

His eyes would stay open, watching her the entire time. His gaze would never move off of her, as though he was drinking the sight of her in and getting his own high by watching her come undone.

When she would moan his name, he would whisper a husky 'Look at me' in her ear, or against her skin, until she complied, her eyes drinking the sight of him as he lost himself in the sight of her.

Words would flow from his lips, sometimes between kisses, he would mouth, 'You're so beautiful', or something that was indecipherable.

The vibration of his voice would cause her to tremble a little more, the jolt that it caused to run through her leaving her closer to tumbling over the edge.

When he knew she was about to fall over the end, he would thrust deeper, take charge, and allow her to succumb to the trembles and moans that took over, that possessed her. Never taking his eyes off of her.

If she closed her eyes, he would ask again for her to look at him, and when he followed her over the edge, her name would flow from his lips, his eyes trailed on hers.

It was always there, that look.

She could remember it for as long as she could remember knowing him, all the way back to when she came out of the burnt out laundromat.

His eyes were darker, they held emotion and spoke the truth.

They said what his lips couldn't, what she felt every time he touched her.

After he had succumbed to the ecstasy he would gently lay her back down before smothering her in kisses and holding her tight as they would allow sleep to gently lull them away.

For the last six weeks, there had been no kisses, no cuddles, no passion, no ecstasy, and now driving away it consumed her thoughts.

His willingness to satisfy her and pleasure her were based solely on the fact that even then he was trying to tell her how he felt.

Tell her that it was only ever her.

It wasn't sex, it wasn't just an ordinary screw, or lay, it was everything he wanted to say for her to understand in actions.

She had already told him that she was in love with him, and he had finally decided to actually say the words when they weren't even together anymore, when she was facing death.

She pegged it down as a spur of the moment declaration, but now the steamy memories turned the switch to the fact that even though she was oblivious to it, he was always telling her how he felt.

Aways ensuring she knew.

"Turn around". Her voice broke the silence that was only disturbed by the somber tunes playing on the radio.

"What?". Nick and her handler both abruptly asked.

"I can't do this, it wasn't the timing that sucked, it was me that was too stupid to see it".

Nick stared at her in the rear view mirror, his eyes filling with understanding, he knew exactly what she was going through.

"Please turn around". Her voice was begging, her tone broken, her face filled with hope.

Jimmy, their handler pulled over onto the shoulder

of the highway, giving her the chance to change her mind.

But she didn't, she nodded as he indicated and pulled back out into the quiet night traffic.

Sam waited at the Penny, eyeing the door every time it opened and closed.

After three hours, it was obvious that she wasn't coming.

He didn't blame her, he really didn't, he was getting what he deserved.

Callaghan had offered him a spot on his task force, something called 'Project Dakota', but he had declined, he was done with UC, he was done running, now it was time to rather chase what he really wanted.

Her.

He knew when she didn't show up at the Penny that chances were she was possibly the other UC.

But he was glad that if so, that she had taken it, he knew she wasn't running, knew she wasn't hiding.

It was her giving him time to process what he had actually said and done, and for him to accept that things between them were different now.

Making his way home, he locked the door and poured another whiskey, his head already spinning from the ones he had consumed at the Penny.

Forgoing a glass, he grabbed the bottle and sipped out of it, allowing the liquid to burn its way down as he swallowed.

A soft knock on his door would sir his thoughts, making him walk over to it slowly and yank it open to find her flushed face on the other side.

"Andy?".

The sight before him sobered him up instantly, her actually being here enough to stop time.

"Why did you choose that moment to tell me that? Was it a spur of the moment thing, or did you say it out of guilt or to clear your conscience, because I really don't get it Sam".

She stood just outside the doorway, shifting nervously from foot to foot as she waited for his answer.

Her head was held high, no sign of the anger and disbelief she felt showing in her eyes anymore.

"I dunno, I have no idea". He really didn't.

"But I meant every word I said, I just thought that maybe you knew it?".

She knew she couldn't lie that she knew it, at least now, but she had to hear it from him.

"Its always been you, I just didn't want to let myself let you in because you have the power to completely, totally and utterly destroy me and I just didn't know how to handle that".

"So you broke up with me?".

Sam nodded, his head hanging a little in shame, because truth was he was ashamed of himself and his behavior.

"I always knew it Sam, and even though when I said it and said I didn't need to hear you say it, when you actually said it, it was just all wrong".

"Andy...I don't know how to do this, how to say I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, and I don't think making you dinner, taking out your garbage and getting a dog will make up for it". Sam ran a hand over his face, he needed to know what she wanted him to do, if she would let him do anything to fix it.

"Say it". Andy's tone was edged with sharpness, her eyes flicking between his as his face grew hopeful and her words sank in.

"That's all?". His voice in turn was wrapped in something she couldn't quite place, as he stepped forwards and stood inches away from her in the darkness of his front deck.

"That's all". Andy whispered, her eyes still deeply penetrating his, looking into his soul.

"I love you Andy McNally". Sam whispered as his hand instinctively reaching out to her face to find her cheek and his fingertips reaching into her loose hair.

Leaning forwards, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, her lips finding his in longing.

As Sam's free hand gripped her hip and pulled her flush against him, her lips curving up into a smile against his.

Although they had a long way to go, she knew that this time it was for keeps.

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